


He's not a Winchester: Not Officially anyway

by SilverNyctophilia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Absent John Winchester, Adam Milligan is Not Forgotten, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Author loves to chat in the Comments, Awesome Bobby Singer, Brotherly Bonding, F/F, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Multi, Not Adam Milligan, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Sam Winchester's Visions, Sharing a Bed, Winchester Feels, Work In Progress, actual human disaster Adam Milligan, awkward teenage character, comment, infact he's the star, so please
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2018-10-26 18:26:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10792236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverNyctophilia/pseuds/SilverNyctophilia
Summary: Set way back in season one. Sam and Dean are still looking for their father, when one day they get a call from their Uncle Bobby, who informs them of Johns whereabouts. It's not where he is that's the problem, it's why he's there.Or, the one where Sam and Dean meet awkward teenage Adam, and John has a lot of explaining to do.





	1. Windom?

**Author's Note:**

> HI Y'all.  
> Getting straight to it, I think this fic is long overdue. It's an idea that sounds interesting but not necessarily easy to write. This story takes place early season one. Sam's about 22, Dean's 26, and Adam's around 16 (?).  
> This will be updated a couple times a month, and will probably be an ongoing thing. :)

2005

Sam is standing in a field of green, he’d laugh at how damn cliche it was had it not been for the feeling of undeniable calamity which surrounded him in that moment. The sun was shining almost too bright, and Sam had a hard time keeping his eyes wide open. He squinted and looked down, blinking the little white spots from his vision.  
“Sam?” called a voice not too far from him. He straightened in an instant. Alright, it had only been a couple months since then, there was no way this could be real, Sam knew that.  
“Over here Sam,” said Jessica. “Turn around.” He almost didn’t. He almost pried his eyes open to escape but like every time before this, he found it impossible to leave her alone again.  
“Turn around, come here.” So he did.  
Behind him Jessica stood by a white and red checker patterned table cloth. A woven basket sat atop the cloth. It was the perfect little picnic they’d never got to have. Like every time before this she looked lovely in her white dress and round face, and her perfect head of wavy blonde hair. Sam would cry, but it’d only ruin the moment. He wasted no more time, sweeping her into his arms and kissing her hard on the lips. She gasped sweetly and Sam was so weak in that moment. He broke the kiss and looked deeply into her eyes. He had a good memory, because it was almost like the real thing. She giggled and brushed his awkward bangs back.  
“What?” asked Sam.  
“I love when you look so serious. It’s cute.”  
He would’ve replied but Sam found himself lost in the sensation of her fingers in his scalp, massaging lightly as she always used to do when he was stressed out.  
“I love you Jess.” He whispered. When he first had this dream it took him longer to say it. He kept waking up before he could. Now he knew to say it, repeat it and make sure this version of Jessica understood how much she meant to him.  
“Sam can you do something for me?’  
“Anything.”  
“Can you wake up for me?”  
“What- no Jess…”  
She gripped both sides of his face, kissing him one more time before telling him again, “wake up.”  
“I don’t want to go yet, just a few more minutes, please?” She smiled wide and sad.  
“Sammy, time to wake up.”

 

“Rise n’ shine Sammy!” Dean threw Sam’s duffel bag on the bed where, evidently Sam was still asleep. With a gasp Sam sat up, catching Dean’s attention.  
“You alright?”  
“Yeah...just a weird dream.” He shook his head and rubbed his eyes.  
“Was it about Jessica?” said Dean, without looking away from his own bag.  
“How’d you know?”  
Dean made a kissy face and smacked his lips as he said, “Oh Jess!...oh I don’t want to leave you, oh!-”  
A pillow hit him in the face.  
“Not funny.”  
“Ehh...it’s a little funny.” Dean smiled and carried on packing his things as Sam took a shower. 

 

“Hey dad, it’s Dean again,” he laughed. “As if it’d be anyone else. Anyway, Sam and I are still looking for-”  
“Dean!” Sam was halfway out the door, waving him inside.  
“Can you gimme a sec?”  
Sam pursed his lips and cocked his head, silently screaming ‘now’. Dean rolled his eyes.  
“Sam and I are still okay, I’ll check in with you later.” He hung up. 

“What?” He called out, walking back into the motel room. Sam sat by the table hunched over his phone. He was biting his nails and shaking his leg restlessly.  
“Dude, what?” Dean repeated.  
Without a word Sam pressed a button on his phone. Dean already had words in his throat before a startling voice played from the cell phone.  
“Sam, that you? It’s yer’ Uncle Bobby.” Dean’s eyes widened and he sat down opposite to Sam. “Listen, last I heard Dean’s with you. So listen up you two, a friend of a friend said he saw your father down by Windom, Minnesota....”  
“The hell’s he doing in Minnesota?-...” Dean glanced to Sam who still bit his nails.  
“...Couple a’ hunters said he was on a case, ghouls I think, mean it was a few days ago...but I got a call last night, apparently he’s still sticking around town. You boys better hurry if you wanna catch up, call and let me know how you’re doing later. Take care.” The call ended with an abrupt click. For a few seconds they were silent.  
“Minnesota…” Dean rubbed his eyes, “freakin Minnesota.”  
“I don’t get it.’ Sam finally said. “Dad’s made it a point to skip towns like it’s no one’s business. Why would he stay in one place long enough for hunters to find him?”  
“I dunno…”  
“Do you think he’s still there?’  
“It’s our best bet, and if he isn’t then at least we have some place to start.” Dean didn’t wait for a response, he stood up and hit Sam on the shoulder. “C’mon we’ll find him later, breakfast first.” 

 

After a rather greasy breakfast in a local joint, the two were off to Minnesota. They’d already been driving for hours when Sam let the familiar sensation of the unpaved roads lull him to sleep. Sure enough, he dreamed of Jessica in her white dress, waiting for him like she always had. His head was in her lap the next time he woke up.  
Sam blinked away the tiredness, taking in his surroundings. They were at a gas station. He could see Dean through the window, in his arms nearly a dozen different kinds of chips and candy and whatever else Dean managed to get his hands on.  
Sam let his head fall back and sigh. Just a few more hours, then this all would be worth it right? They’d finally find their father and then...do whatever they needed to, right?  
Dean pulled the door shut, taking Sam out of his head.  
“You good?” asked Dean, while he back out of the station with a stick of jerky between his teeth.  
“Yeah.” Sam said. “I’m just thinking about Dad.”  
“What about him?”  
“What happens when we find him? I mean, what’re we gonna say?”  
Dean didn’t respond. He knew what Sam really meant. ‘What am I gonna say to him, what does he want me to say, is he still pissed about Stanford?...’ Dean clicked his teeth.  
“We’ll deal with it when we get there. It’ll be fine.”  
If Sam had in fact noticed any bit of reluctance in his brother’s voice he didn’t say anything.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has a vision.

    After a rather greasy breakfast in a local joint, the two were off to Minnesota.

They’d already been driving for hours when Sam let the familiar sensation of the unpaved roads lull him to sleep. Sure enough, he dreamed of Jessica in her white dress, waiting for him like she always had. His head was in her lap the next time he woke up.

    Sam blinked away the tiredness, taking in his surroundings. They were at a gas station. He could see Dean through the window, in his arms nearly a dozen different kinds of chips and candy and whatever else Dean managed to get his hands on. Sam let his head fall back and sigh. He felt...off. Maybe it was the dull throbbing headache that seemed to form within minutes, or maybe it was just anxiety. Just a few more hours, then this all would be worth it right? They’d finally find their father and then...do whatever they needed to, right?  

   Dean pulled the door shut, taking Sam out of his head.

   “You good?” asked Dean, while he back out of the station with a stick of jerky between his teeth.

    “Yeah.” Sam said. “I’m just thinking about Dad.”

    “What about him?”

    “What happens when we find him? I mean, what’re we gonna say?”

    Dean didn’t respond. He knew what Sam really meant. ‘What am I gonna say to him, what does he want me to say, is he still pissed about Stanford?...’ Dean clicked his teeth.

    “We’ll deal with it when we get there. It’ll be fine.”

    If Sam had in fact noticed any bit of reluctance in his brother’s voice he didn’t say anything.

 

    

    It was a few hours later when the brothers passed a sign reading “Now entering the town of  Windom, Minnesota. Population: 4,670.”  

   “Charming, ain’t it Sammy?” Dean said, sparing a glance to the right. Sam was massaging his temple, eyes closed and an irritated look on his face.

   “Dude what is it?” He looked back between the road and his brother.

   “I just…-” he stopped and swallowed thickly. He didn’t quite feel right. His head had been feeling heavier throughout the drive, but Sam had reasoned it was just a lack of sleep, or something.

    “You just what, Sam?”

   Dean’s voice didn’t reach his ears, Sam was too caught up in the throbbing pain in his head, the more intense it grew, the more familiar it seemed.  In an instant Sam lurched forward and cried out, “Ah- Dean!” He groaned and grabbed his head in his hand, reaching out to his side blindly in fear, trying to grab his brother.

“Shit!” Dean pulled over to the side of the road. He grabbed Sam’s arm, waiting for this to pass, feeling helpless all the while.

 

_Head throbbing, blood flowing. There was a woman in a coffin- her face was missing and her body was torn open. Throbbing, screaming. There was a man with blood on his face staring right at his father, he licked his stained teeth and walked toward him. Throbbing, aching. ‘I was going to tell you boy, but the timing never seemed right.’  Blood, someone’s being torn open- someone’s being eaten, alive._

 

    With a gasp, Sam pushed Dean’s arm off and got out of the car. He fell onto his knees just a few feet away from the impala and weakly braced himself up. He heaved and coughed, folding over. Visions were never kind to him, and they’d been getting worse and worse each time they came. But this was something else. He’d watched various scenarios in which people fell victim to some supernatural force, he’d watched others fight back, and he’d watched people die. But he’d never seen someone torn to shreds. Sam fell forward, physically exhausted from his vision. He panted, trying to fight off the dizziness and return to the world around him.

     “Sam!” Dean called out way too loud, crouching down in front of his brother.

     “C’mon Sammy, you with me?”

    Sam couldn’t find it in himself to talk just then, so he nodded, and swallowed thickly. What was the point of such a vision if it only left more questions unanswered? Who was that woman? He didn’t know her name, or where she was from, or what her face even looked like. And what the hell was that thing eating people? Just as confusing, what was their Dad hiding from them, why didn’t he just tell them? A million questions went through his head. He tried to tell Dean about the woman and about that thing, and their father. But all that came out was a jumbled incoherent mess.

    Dean shook his head, not able to make out a single word of what Sam had tried to tell him. He grabbed his brother’s shoulders and pulled him up, all but shoving him back into the car, with very little protest. He made sure Sam was fully inside before shutting the door and returning to his side. Immediately, Dean started the impala, and drove in search of a motel. He knew it could be a long time before Sam was coherent enough to respond to him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super short, super quick. Expect something much more thrilling next chapter ;)  
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :)

 

    This time it was different. He woke in her lap. Sam looked up to see Jessica with that beautiful smile staring down at him. She stroked his head and hummed a song they’d used to listen to on repeat; but he couldn’t quite remember how it went anymore. It was bittersweet really, he knew it was all a cruel, cruel dream this time; but it didn’t stop him from closing his eyes and letting her comfort him. She giggled sweetly and brushed his bangs back before leaning down and kissing his forehead.  Sam sigh, disappointed. 

 

    “Jess?” 

 

   “Mm?” 

 

   “Don’t let me leave without you,” but before she could respond he already had.

 

 

 

   Sam felt something cold on his forehead. He opened his eyes to stare at a stained ceiling. For a moment he didn’t know where he was, until it all hit him at once. He sat up, wet towel falling from his forehead into his lap. 

    “Sammy, you with me?” 

 

    Sam turned to see Dean  flipping through their Dad's journal on the other bed. He looked up from the book, “you good?” 

 

    The younger Winchester swept a hand through his bedhead, “how long was I out this time?” 

 

    Dean looked at the clock, “about fifteen-hours, not bad,” he shot a crooked smirk his brothers way. Sam groaned and rubbed his eyes, it was gonna be a long day. 

 

 

 

 

    “Nothing for me, thanks.” Sam said to the waitress, face still buried in his coffee cup. He still felt sick from yesterday's vision, but at least he could enjoy the familiar smell of slightly burnt coffee. 

 

    “You sure?” asked Dean, “I think they have those green smoothies you like…” He handed over the menu and smiled at the waitress when Sam didn’t respond. When she was gone Dean leaned forward and said, “so like, actually eating someone?”

    “Yes, Dean. Actually eating someone.” Sam responded. 

 

    “Okay, anything else?” Dean asked and sipped on his coffee.

 

    “Uh-well, she was looking past me.” 

 

    “Who was she looking at?” 

 

    “I don’t know.” Sam shook his head. “God it was horrible…” he took a sip of his own coffee.   

    “Did you find anything in Dad’s journal?” he asked. 

 

    “Well, between your incoherent gabbling, and Dad’s crappy handwriting....” Dean pulled the journal from his jacket and placed it on the table, flipping pages. “But...I did find  **this** .”

  He pointed to a newspaper clipping depicting a woman with blood dripping from her mouth. Her head lay a few feet away from her body. Beside her lay what looked like a man’s remains. Officers stood around her, flashlights pointed in all directions. Beside that picture was another one, one of several townsmen. 

 

    “Look closer, the one in the back.” Dean pointed to an eerily familiar face.

 

    “Dad? What the hell was he doing here?” 

 

    “Working a case.” Dean quickly shut the book as the waitress come back with his plate piled high with pancakes.

 

    She filled both their coffee cups and chirped, “the rest are coming in just a minute hun.” The redhead flashed him a wink and smiled wide before she turned to Sam. “You sure you don’t want anything?” 

 

     “No, thank you.” Sam replied and she left, turning to smile at his brother flirtatiously. He was amused to find Dean still looking in her direction. He snapped his fingers. 

 

     “Earth-to-Dean?”  

 

     “Huh?” Dean snapped back and shoved a large forkful of pancake into his mouth. “Oh right, okay.” He licked syrup off his fingers and flipped the pages back. He cleared his voice dramatically, putting on his best news reporter voice. 

 

_   “Ghouls can be I _ _ dentified as a grave-robbing creature that feed on dead bodies and on children at times.  Western ghouls have no specific image and have been described  as “neither man nor woman…neither brute nor human.” They are thought to assume disguises, to ride on dogs and hares, and to set fires at night to lure travelers away from the main roads. They will often take on the appearance of the body they last consumed. The only way to kill them is to decapitate them. Update: Destroying their brains will also work.”  _

 

    Dean shut the book and scarfed down another piece of pancake, syrup dripping down his chin. “Bobby said something about Ghouls. Between that, “ he gestured to Sam with his fork, “and your vision, the odds are looking pretty good.” 

 

    Sam scoffed, “guess these are good for something.” he muttered quietly. 

 

    Dean pulled his head from the plate, “what did you say?” he asked with his mouth full. Sam shook his head before throwing a napkin his way.  

 

    “Hey, order of, oh jeez…” Said a tired voice.

 

    The two Winchesters turn to see a teenage boy in a red apron, struggling to balance a pot of coffee and a couple plates. He swayed on his feet, as though he had had a long night. 

 

    “One side of toast, with jam, two sausages, two bacon, more coffee- _ Shit!”  _ The kid hissed as hot coffee dripped down the side of the pot and onto his hand.

 

Sam pushed the book aside and carefully grabbed two plates from his shaking arms. The boy smiled nervously, “thanks man.” 

 

   Dean took the hot pot of coffee from him, wincing at the nasty looking red patch on the boys hand. “Thanks.” He pulled out a towel and dabbed at his hand. “Uh, enjoy your meal?” He turned around and awkwardly walked away faster than needed. Sam bit his lip and Dean lowered his head, shoulders shaking as he tried to hold in his chuckle. 

 

   “Don’t laugh, it’s rude-” Sam snapped, taking in a breath to try and contain his own snicker. Just as he spoke there was a loud crash from the kitchen, followed by yelling. 

__

_    “Milligan!”  _

_  
_ _    “Crap-sorry sir.”  _

    There was the sound of a yelp and a thud. 

_    “Jesus Christ kid, stand up will ya’!”  _

 

_     “My mistake, I’ll be more careful next time.”  _

    Sam winced and looked back to Dean, who’d abandoned his bacon and continued to stare into the kitchen window.  “Damn…”  he muttered. Sam sipped on his coffee, debating on stealing a piece of Dean’s untouched toast. 

 

    “Remind you of someone?” Dean said, pushing the plate to Sam, who furrowed his brows.

“You, dumbass.” He sipped on his coffee and shoved a piece of bacon into his mouth before continuing. “You were what, fifteen years old? When you hit your growth spurt.” Dean laughed fondly. “You weren’t used to being tall, used to trip over your own, gangly legs.” He  snorted. “Just the picture of it.” 

   “Not funny.” Sam shot back.

   “It’s a little…” The smile on Dean’s face faded and he looked straight forward.

   “Are you freakin kidding me?” 

 

    “Wha-,” Sam turned around; he was met with the sight of their father at the door of the diner. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, short and sweet.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are stressed. That's about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, I won't bore anyone with personal stuff, but y'all know how life gets. So sorry for not updating, an actual confrontation between John and the boys is coming net chapter, which WILL be out sometime this week. I give you permission to punch me in the throat if not. 
> 
> -the author

Their father looked the same as always, only a little more grey and a lot more stressed. Sam’s entire vision tunnelled at that moment. He’s replayed this moment in his head more times than he could count, with every possible scenario playing out before him. Would he be disappointed? Even after all this time- after everything he’s accomplished? John looked straight toward the kitchen, not sparing a glance anywhere else. Dean made a move to stand, Sam grabbed his arm, “wait.”   
“Sam let go...,” his voice was firm as he stared their father down with an angry glare.   
“Dean, wait.” Before Dean could make a move their father walked up to the counter and took a seat, setting down his bag and pulling out another book.   
Dean sat back down with an enraged look, seeming like he'd yell any minute. Under better circumstances, it would’ve been funny.   
“Why’re you so mad, we found him finally,” Sam said in a whisper as he ducked his head down. Dean looked up at him, jaw clenching and face reddening, “I’m not mad, I’m just…” he shook his head. “You know,” he rubbed his face.  
Except that Sam really didn't know.

CRASH 

“Holy shit- hi, hey,” was exclaimed loudly enough to catch Sam’s attention. 

The brothers turned around hearing the familiar voice. Standing by the counter was their young waiter, who had unsurprisingly dropped another plate. He stared, wide-eyed at their father, looking like a deer in the headlights. John closed his book, looking significantly calmer than before. Then, he did something neither boys could remember; he smiles, and a nervous smile at that!  
Then, he stood and reached over the counter to shake the younger boy's hand; it was a painfully awkward gesture, John being rigid and the boy being too enthusiastic. Sam looked back at Dean, who was just as confused as he was.   
Sam peered by the counter again just in time to see his father let go of the younger man's hand. He stroked his beard and fidgeted with his fingers while the two took a moment to talk. Seeing as how the two were occupied, Sam leaned forward across the table.   
“Outside, C'mon,” he whispered.  
Dean looked about ready to argue.   
“We’ll wait outside, that way when he leaves- we've got him alone.”   
Dean clenched his jaw in indecision but intimately went along with his brother's plan. Sam was relieved they could at least avoid making a scene in front of all these people.   
They gathered their things, threw a couple bills on the table, and quietly walked towards the door.   
Dean turned around suddenly, and for a split second, Sam thought he'd changed his mind about listening. His fears were diminished as soon as his brother headed toward their table, shovelled the remainder of an egg in his mouth, and grabbed whatever food they'd left behind. 

Sam couldn't decide if he was annoyed or amused. 

 

Dean walked in circles a few feet away. He had said he was trying to get a hold of Bobby, adamant on talking about their father's whereabouts. Sam knew it had more to do with being angry and wanting to talk it out with someone. There was a part of him that wished he was still the person his brother would turn to, but he knew it would take time to rebuild what was there. Sam thought back to a time when they were younger. He would come back from school in whatever town it was they were staying in, and he would confide in Dean that he wanted more. 

He wanted to be someone.

He wanted to do something. 

He didn’t want the life they were living. 

Dean would listen and reassure him of whatever concern he had spoken about. Then one day Sam grew old enough to do the same for his brother. Dean, frustrated with their father's absence at the time, had actually sat down and poured his heart out. He spoke of how hard he tried, how scared he was that he'd always have to try. It happened more and more after that, sometimes it was Dean talking about a girl, maybe it was his feelings on the most recent hunt, or maybe it was a deeper talk about their father’s expectations. By the time Sam left for Stanford Dean had been telling him everything. Fast forward four years later and here they stood, as strangers more than anything. 

It would take a lot of time to rebuild what they had. 

“I’m done.” Dean said matter-of-factly, “I’m done waiting for him.” He stood up, popped his collar and went toward the diner door. Sam shot to his feet. “Dean, wait.”  
“Sam, how long do you want us to wait out here?”   
“Dean, just think for a minute. We go in there, and then what? Do you even know what you’re going to say to him?”   
“Yeah, actually. I’m gonna swing those doors open, walk straight up to him and say, ‘hey, It’s me, your son- I’m here with your other son, remember us, or what?"  
“And how well do you think that’ll go?” Dean opened his mouth to argue but nothing came out. Seeing his brothers frustration, and admitting they’ve been standing a little long- Sam wordlessly ushered Dean back to the Impala.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you!

**Author's Note:**

> Listen,...I just...I love Adam.  
> Plus I think it'd be interesting how they'd all interact in this timeline.  
> Leave your thoughts below! (I love to chit chat :)


End file.
